Didn't drive to Boston today because my driver's side rear tire was "flat as a doornail" according to my mother's frenzied simile, and has been that way for Lord knows how long.
So Mumsy and I trekked into Boston in her monstrous, unparkable vehicle, didn't get lost, hit a pigeon somewhere in Concord and just now realized that the poor bird's carcass is still wedged in grille.
I'm really just at a loss here, a horrifying mix of pity and revulsion and sick amusement (not at the death of the bird, but at how abysmally this situation is being dealt with).
For Pete's sake.
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